by Iris Blobel
Tears welled up in Emma's eyes and she struggled hard to choke them back. She didn’t want Mr. Morgan to see her vulnerability. But more importantly, she needed this job. She loved her job, knew she was competent at it, and gave it her everything.
Leo Morgan rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “What am I going to do with you, Emma?” He stood up and walked up to the window. “Are you aware that Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs will leave tomorrow?”
She stared at him in astonishment and slowly moved her head from side to side.
“Are you rostered for the rest of the week?”
“Yes, sir. The usual ten to four shift.”
“Well then, how about you take the rest of the week off as unpaid leave, and I will keep this incident out of your file.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan.”
He shook his head. “Now off you go, before I change my mind.”
Emma smiled her thanks and quickly stood up and left the office. As quickly as her legs let her leave, anyway. They felt heavy, like blocks of cement, though she was so relieved it should really have been the opposite. Walking on air? Nonsense. Just get out of this office!
She went straight to Jack and informed him about the meeting with Mr. Morgan. The tears of relief to still have a job, and anger towards Mrs. Gibbs for putting her into that position in the first place, were now rolling down her cheeks. Jack pulled her in closer, cupped her face and gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. Meeting his gaze through watery eyes she detected a smile on his face, but something else as well. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.
“What?” she asked quietly.
9
Emma sat on the chair in front of the hotel’s bar counter and cradled her head in her hands. Some of the ache behind her eyes was easing, but not her mood. Frank came around to the front and took her into his arms. They had known each other since Emma had started her job at the hotel and got to know each other when she was having her Monday breakfasts. She appreciated his gesture. Frank was in his mid-forties, and with two daughters in their late teens, Emma knew he often consoled them with a hug whenever they were in trouble. The gentle fatherly embrace and his hand stroking her back was soothing and comforting.
“Frank, could I please have a nice cup of tea?”
A smile spread across his face. “It’s on the house, Em.”
Thoughts of confusion went through her head. He winked at her. “Your stint as a babysitter and trouble with HR is common knowledge.”
Frank stepped back to look into her face. “I think your new little friend is here.” He hesitated and then choked back a smile. “Looking quite as upset as you do.”
Emma looked around and spotted Nadine. “Poor little soul!” She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes with a serviette and hopped off the chair. “How do I look?”
Frank winked and with a low, smooth voice he said, “Beautiful as ever.”
She quickly stood on her toes and gave Frank a kiss on his cheek. “I owe you big time. Do you mind bringing me the tea over to table–” She looked around. “–seven?”
She quickly walked towards Nadine. “Honey, what’s the matter?” But as soon as she kneeled down, Nadine threw her arms around Emma’s neck and sobbed inconsolably. Emma picked her up and moved to the table, sat the little girl on her lap, and let her cry until she was ready to talk. With a little sign towards Frank, she asked him for more serviettes and he brought them over with her tea.
“Honey, would you like to tell me what happened?” Emma asked quietly as she wiped away some of the tears on Nadine’s face.
Nadine had stopped crying, but had the occasional hiccup. Her tiny body moved even closer to Emma, if at all possible, and Emma kept on moving her hand up and down the little girl’s back to console her.
“Nobody likes me,” Nadine whispered, but her voice broke miserably.
There was an ache in the pit of Emma’s stomach, and she held the girl even tighter. She kissed Nadine’s forehead.
“Honey, what on earth gave you that idea?”
There was another sobbing hiccup. “Grandma and Grandpa are leaving tomorrow without me.”
“You didn’t know?” Emma asked carefully.
Nadine shook her head and started crying again, and Emma automatically resumed rocking her. She let go with one of her hands to have a sip of her tea when she briefly looked up and saw William as pale as a ghost. She nodded towards him and in turn, he mouthed the words “Thank you so much.”
“Honey, I have a feeling your dad really enjoyed the afternoon with you.”
She shook her head again and said with soft, choked words, “No, he only wants me to visit him.”
“Naddie? Look at me, sweetie.”
The small face slowly looked up and it tore Emma apart to see this beautiful girl so upset and in distress. She wiped the tears with her thumb and then brushed a lock of hair from Nadine’s cheek.
“Honey, I have a feeling your dad didn’t know that you’re supposed to stay with him. I can’t help but think that he actually might like the idea of having you around.”
Again, the girl shook her head. The sense of helplessness in Emma seemed overwhelming. She was glad when Frank came over with a glass of milk and a few biscuits, and she nodded to him in appreciation.
“Can I have one?” Nadine asked hesitantly.
“You certainly can.” Emma reached for the little plate and offered them to Nadine. They sat in silence for a long moment while Nadine ate, and Emma’s thoughts wandered off to Flynn. Heat spread across her cheeks as she wondered what was hiding beneath his nicely pressed white shirt. She rolled her eyes, annoyed at herself. Talk about lousy timing, Emma.
She found a pen in her bag and jotted a few numbers on a serviette.
“Naddie. These are my phone numbers. You can ring me anytime, anywhere. Promise you will do that?”
“Will I see you while I’m with Dad?”
Emma gently touched the girl’s nose. “Of course you will. Hopefully every day.”
A cautious smile! Emma was relieved to see it, and she smiled as well. Even more though, when Nadine threw her arms around Emma’s neck again for another big hug.
“You’re my best ever friend.”
Emma had to give it her best to not cry again. She’d give anything to help her small friend.
* * *
* * *
“Hi, Mum. How are you?” Flynn sat down on his lounge and stretched his long legs casually before him.
“Flynn! It’s so good to hear from you. We’re well. How are you?”
Every muscle in his body tensed up. Flynn wasn’t the chit-chat kind of person at the best of times, so he decided he would tell his mother straight out. “Well, let’s say fate has certainly thrown a twist into my life.” He took a deep breath.
“Flynn? What happened?” his mother asked.
“Had a bit of a blast from the past.”
He looked over at the old photo which was still on the shelf. Him and Sarah on the ferry crossing the Bass Strait. She had insisted on going the long way instead of flying. Her words still echoed in his head.
“I’m not going to fly, Flynn. These planes fall deep when something’s wrong.”
He laughed. “Snookums, I reckon the distance to the bottom of the Bass Strait is just as deep.”
“I don’t care,” she replied stubbornly, and he knew she had made up her mind.
“Though, I do admit there aren’t any icebergs.”
“You don’t take me seriously!” she complained, with her mouth twitching into a smile.
“Flynn? Flynn!”
He dipped his head and shook it regretfully. “Yes, Mum, I’m still here.” He paused for a moment and then continued. ”Sarah’s parents came for a visit.”
The surprise was obvious by the moment of quiet. “Teresa and William?” she asked in disbelief, her voice an octave higher than usual.
His hand was holding the bottle of beer next to him like his l
ife depended on it. “Mum, I’ve got a young daughter.”
Silence. “Flynn, have you been drinking?”
“Mum, I’m serious as serious could be. Remember Sarah not wanting to live in Melbourne, and then saying she had someone else in her life?”
He heard her sigh. “How can I forget? I don’t think I’d ever seen you so upset and depressed.”
“Well…” He took a deep breath. “That someone was a baby. I’ve got a little girl, Mum.”
More silence. His mouth curved into a grin when he heard his mother whisper to his father, “Get me a stiff drink, Carl. We’ve just become grandparents.”
She lifted her hand off the receiver and rattled out questions. “How old is she? What’s her name?”
The grin disappeared and he rubbed his face. “Six, and Nadine,” he murmured.
Jenny screamed into the phone. “Si-i-i-ix?”
Flynn almost dropped the bottle. “Good grief, Mum. Keep it down.”
He heard her sipping her drink – whatever it was.
“How am I supposed to keep it down? Flynn, why on earth… why the… Teresa and William… and where’s Sarah–“
“Mum!”
Silence.
“Jenny Rose McCormack.”
She sighed. “Yes?”
“Ask Dad for a glass of water.”
“Oh my goodness gracious, Flynn.” He heard her holding her hand over the phone. “Carl, he says I need a glass of water.”
Flynn shook his head. Carl wanted to talk to his son as well – of course, because so far he was just serving her with drinks and listening to outbursts of disbelief and questions. “Not now… in a minute… It’s my turn.”
“Mum?”
“Your father is a bit of a pain here.”
“Mum?” he said more firmly.
“Yes?” she replied flustered.
“Saz died just after Christmas last year.”
Silence.
“Mum?”
“Flynn? It’s your dad here. What just happened? Your mother is pale as a ghost.”
“Hi, Dad.” Flynn felt his stomach turning upside-down. This was more like a comedy than him trying to tell his parents about his last forty-eight hours. “Dad? I’m a Dad as well. Sarah died last Christmas. Teresa and William have been in Melbourne, and in Teresa’s subtle and gentle way, she told me about the young daughter I have. Nadine’s her name, and they want me to take over custody and look after her.”
Silence.
“Son? That’s a lot to take in. How are you going?”
Flynn rubbed his temple with the heel of his hands. How he was going? How was he going?
“Dad? There’s no word for how I feel.”
He leaned back and closed his eyes. There was definitely anger. His head spun as anger pumped through his veins. He was angry that he was robbed of so many years of a life together with Sarah, because – well he didn’t know why. Why on earth would she keep a child away from him? And the look in the little girl’s eyes told him that she was a McCormack. So much of her was Sarah, but her eyes were without doubt the same eyes as those of the person who had told him off when he was a kid in trouble. Nadine had his mother’s eyes. The colour of a polished jade, flecked and ringed with a hint of gold. He took a sip of his drink. And there was sadness. Grief-stricken sadness that his love was gone. He hadn’t even been able to be by her side when she might have needed him most. When she was too sick to help herself. To kiss her good-bye, or even tell her that she would be in his heart for the rest of his life.
But there was also a sense of pride. Pride to have created something as special as a child. Something that would forever connect him with Sarah and be part of his life for good.
But most of all there was fear. Fear of what the future was holding for him.
“Dad, I will need help.”
“Not to worry, son. I will try and shake that ghost out of your mother and we’ll arrange to catch a flight sometime before the weekend.”
Flynn nodded in appreciation. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Now, Flynn, don’t you worry about anything. I’m sure we’ll be able to sort everything out.”
Flynn hung up and knocked back the rest of the beer in a few long gulps. How on earth was he supposed to not worry? He didn’t have a clue when it came to raising children. He didn’t have a clue what they liked, ate, wore. But most of all, he didn’t have a clue about his daughter except that she loved dolls. He sighed. It was a start and better than nothing. At least that was what he told himself.
10
Emma looked over at her clock when she heard Jack in the bathroom. She turned around, pulled the duvet over her head, and the tears slowly found their way down her cheeks again. She couldn’t believe that good old Mrs. Gibbs had managed to get her into so much trouble that she was now forced to take leave. That fruitcake of a lady!
When she heard a sound she removed the duvet and listened. There was a gentle knock at the door, but Emma ignored it.
“Em? Are you awake?” Jack asked quietly.
“No!”
She heard him laughing. “I’m coming in.”
“I’m still asleep,” she replied.
Jack gently opened the door and stepped inside. With a cup of tea in his hand he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Good morning, sunshine.” He slowly pulled the duvet towards him, and for a moment, he studied her intently. He raised one eyebrow and handed her the cup of tea. “Em, you look like ... well, your new friend would probably say poo.”
After a wee moment, Emma brain clicked in and she understood. Her jaw dropped and she stared at him as his mouth curved into a mischievous smile. She took the tea, slowly moved her arm up, and pointed towards the door. “Out!”
“Why don’t you just enjoy the time off? Do the girlie stuff you girls like to do. Like shopping, or go to the movies.”
Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she quietly replied, “Can’t afford it. Remember, I’m still behind with the rent. And days off without pay are not helping me a great deal.”
“Cupcake, you still haven’t told me how come you’re broke every month.”
A shrug was all she could come up with. How could she tell him that she kept enrolling into online studying, only to find out it wasn’t her thing? She was saving for a small car and a little house; desperate for a modest place she could call her own. Emma wasn’t a big spender, but she wasn’t big on budgeting, either, and did treat herself to movie or theatre tickets, or a weekend away at the beach.
“I don’t feel like shopping or movies. I feel like punching Mrs. Gibbs for getting me into this situation in the first place.”
“That’s not what Mr. Morgan would refer to as appropriate customer service.” He grinned.
Pointing to the door again, she gave the “Out!” more emphasis than the first time.
He leaned towards her and gently brushed her lips with his. “Have a great day, and be good.”
And before she was able to react, he had already left the room. She touched her lips with her finger. Did he just? I can’t believe he just did!
Emma leaned over to get the remote control and switched on the television. She was going to spend all day in bed! Stuff Mrs. Gibbs and Mr. Morgan, and… Oh my… and Mr. McCormack. Her cheeks started to burn, so she placed the cup of tea on her side table and threw herself back onto her bed. How on earth did all this happen within less than a week? Emma watched the breakfast program a bit longer, and then filled up the bath for a long, hot soak in her favourite, coconut scented bubble bath. But her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Nadine popped up in her thoughts, as did her father, Flynn McCormack. Emma couldn’t help but wonder how those two were going. Her heart went out for both of them, yet deep inside she felt some relief, in a selfish way she realised, that she wasn’t part of that story anymore. Despite hoping, though, that she would see Nadine again.
She truly liked this girl with all her curiosity, excitement, and all the love she was so eager to
share.
* * *
* * *
“Morning.” Flynn said when he heard his assistant coming into the office.
Joyce looked through the door. “Good morning,” she said, surprised. “I thought you having time off was unusual, but being so early is the icing on the cake.”
Leaning back into his seat, he locked his hands behind his head, considering how much he could tell her. He liked Joyce. She had made him welcome from the very first day and had been a wealth of experience since then. With her face showing the lines of a well-lived life, he assumed her to be in her early fifties. He assumed the lines to be a mix of worry as a mother, and newly acquired ones of sincere laughter with her grandchildren. Not that he knew much about her private life, just the few things she liked to tell him about her family over a cup of coffee.
Joyce came in and sat in the chair in front of his desk. “What is it, Flynn?”
Nothing went by her. He remained absolutely motionless for a moment. When he did speak, he moved forward and rested his arms on his desk, folding his hands in front of him.
“Joyce–” He hesitated. “Something’s come up in my private life which requires my full attention.”
She stared at him, and he quickly added, “No, no. Nothing illegal. He watched her relax back into the chair and took a deep breath. “I will need a few days off and need your fullest support to figure out how I can do most of my work from home.”
His assistant nodded slowly, he assumed waiting for more information. But Flynn didn’t elaborate.
“I suppose when the time is right, you will hopefully fill me in with the details.” She tilted her head to the side. “I’m talking about the basics. Your life is none of my business, but when I have to cover for you I feel I deserve more than ‘something’s come up’.”
